


Cat's Cradle

by bossbeth



Series: Inktober 2018 [8]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, SuperCorp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 11:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16263086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossbeth/pseuds/bossbeth
Summary: Lena's done with this day before she finds out that a cargo ship of space cats ruined it.





	Cat's Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> For Inktober, I'm writing short SuperCorp fics in solidarity with my wife drawing every day. Expect fluff and horn in equal measures. If you're reading this during the month of October in 2018, [I'm still taking prompts at my tumblr!](https://bossbeth.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> Anon prompted, “I didn’t mean to turn you on” and this was the uncharacteristically unhorny direction I went with it!

To wake up to her loft on lockdown wasn’t entirely unexpected. She had a last name that meant lockdown features in her home were a necessity. What was unexpected - and set off a spike of genuine fear in her heart - was the fact that there was no power in her bedroom. Steel shutters slamming down over the windows lost their appeal when it left you in pitch blackness.

She flailed blindly until she hit the panic button by her bed - thankfully battery powered - and heard the sheepish voice of her chief of security. “Ma’am, are you all right?”

“You tell me, Willy.”

“Situation normal, Miss Luthor. There is no threat to your person in the vicinity.”

Lena got out of bed and shuffled to her dresser, feeling for something that wasn’t pajamas. “Then why exactly is my bedroom this dark, Willy?”

Willy cleared his throat. “Well, ma’am, your security suite is designed to activate if anyone disables their generators. As a failsafe, ma’am.”

She found what felt like a sweater, and tugged it over her head, all the while trying to remember if she had specced the room to be alienproof, or if Kara could can opener her out of this faster than her techs could. “And what disabled the generators?”

“A spaceship crashed into the roof, ma’am. Filled with kittens.”

Lena shuffled backwards until she bumped into her bed, and sat down heavily. “Kittens?”

“They look like kittens, ma’am. Three-eyed kittens. From space.” Willy’s voice made it clear he was uncomfortable with the degree of whimsy that had entered his life. “Supergirl is working on… gathering them. And a crew is addressing the damage, and working on getting you out of there.”

She felt her phone on the side table, knocking it over in the process. She picked it up. Dead - never charged. How long had this situation been going on? “Willy, what time is it?”

“A little after 10 AM, ma’am.”

She bit down an expletive. “And you didn’t think to wake me sooner, why, exactly? It certainly seems like this radio goes two ways.”

“Well, ma’am, I determined that it would be some time before we could get you out of there, so I thought I’d let you rest.” She noted the hint of compassion in his voice. Willy, you big idiot softie. “I notified Miss Jess and she rearranged your schedule for a late arrival. We should have you out of there in twenty.”

Lena felt a headache forming behind her eyes. “Didn’t I spec a backup generator?”

“It was a very large space ship,” said Willy apologetically.

 

Lena hated being late. It was disrespectful to the people kind enough to give her their time - and honestly, a disorderly schedule was a waste of her own.

Once she had escaped her safe room, greeted by the flush faces of her maintenance techs, she marched right into her bathroom to prepare for the day. The television embedded in her mirror gave her a sense of what she had missed: it played highlights of Kara’s morning, swooping all over the city and capturing what did indeed appear to be small, black, three-eyed cats.

“There’s no need to worry,” Supergirl said in an on-air interview, alien creature curled up in her arms. “Their biology is harmless to humans, and really, they’re more scared of us than we are of them. Aren’t you, little guy?” She held up the creature’s face to her scrunched face, and Lena would swear the creature sighed.

Apparently there were about three hundred aliens in the vessel, of which seventy five had been accounted for. She finished her makeup and clicked the screen off just as it was repeating the hotline you could report sightings to, the faint sound of Kara giggling as she struggled with three cats at once coming through in the background.

Lena felt some solidarity that Kara was having an exciting morning as well.

 

Most of her schedule had been moderately rearrangeable, but she was grateful to have kept the board meeting on the docket. She had been preparing for it all weekend, and was eager to move on to literally anything else. There was nothing particularly unexpected in her presentation.

But she should have known Bryce Harrington wouldn’t let her powerpoint go uninterrupted. He was new to the board, and very young, and every inch a mediocre white man, and therefore eager to share his every passing insight.

“Miss Luthor, I can’t help but notice we’re glazing over an obvious means of improving margins in Electronics by at least twelve hundred basis points.”

Lena managed to contain her reaction to a single raised eyebrow. “I can’t imagine such an oversight, Harrington. Do share.”

He stood, making his way around the table as he laid out his proposal. The asshole had the brilliant idea of moving key manufacturing overseas - what a bold and unheard of concept.

“Between labor costs, and the overhead of keeping a manufacturing facility in California, we should be able to improve our investor’s stakes by a not insignificant degree.”

He stared at her, smug and clearly certain he had cornered her.

Idiot.

“It’s an interesting proposal,” she conceded after letting him hang out there for a good long moment. “If you were more aware of the history of this company, perhaps you would have a better understanding of just how misguided it is.”

His smile didn’t falter, but she did see him swallow.

“Of course the board remembers that when the entire west coast shipping system shut down during the dock strike two years ago, it delayed our smartphone to market by a full quarter. A quarter, Mr. Harrington.”

“Well,” he said.

“You might also acquaint yourself with our demographic overview, which makes clear that our primary differentiatior in the marketplace is selling American made electronics. A premium product, yes, that supports our country in a very real and immediate way. Our customers like to support our country, Harrington, and our customers like to know their devices are made by fairly compensated American laborers, and not overworked borderline slave-labor in a distant land.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile gone now.

“And, I’m curious.” She tapped her lip, deep in thought. “With all the of the myriad ways my brother dragged this company’s name through the mud, and all the good work this board has done to right those wrongs - how exactly do you see us announcing laying off hundreds of Californians, just to make a luxury good affordable to the megarich and not just the ultrarich?”

“I’ll just sit down,” said Harrington.

She watched him do so, then turned her gaze to the rest of the board, feeling the smile form on her face. “I am not opposed to improving margins. But if we approach the point - which we well may - of revisiting stateside operations, I pledge to you I will cut my salary before I lay off a single one of them.” Her eyes flick back to Bryce. “And you can hold me to that, gentlemen.”

 

Everyone had eaten their Wheaties today. Everyone. Bryce Harrington turned out to be the tip of the superfluous-bullshit-iceberg. It seemed that every team lead of every ongoing development project needed their ego soothed today, or required some special insight that only Lena could give. She didn’t mind at all, usually - usually she was happy to be engaged, which is why they felt comfortable coming to her in the first place. But it turned out that her Accounting department was having some sort of meltdown, HR needed her to sign every piece of paper known to mankind, Sourcing was having a fight with key vendors whose feathers she had just unruffled last week…

She desperately wanted to hear Kara’s voice, but when she checked the news, Supergirl was down to the last twenty five space cats.

She contented herself by texting Sam.

_> You know how this job is like carrying ten pounds of shit in a two pound bag? I’m pretty sure the bag just broke._

Sam sent a laughing emoji, then a sweating one, followed by an encouraging,

_> You know you love it. If the bastards grind you down, grind em right back._

Lena was trying her damnedest.

 

At least she had intern presentations to close out her day.

She genuinely loved the LCorp internship program, which prioritized students from marginalized backgrounds over the traditional waves of polished preppies she herself had interned with. And she made sure that every mentor understood that this was an internship, not unpaid labor, and that the students had better get concrete experience from their time.

A key part of that concrete experience was their final presentation. They had each been tasked with a different issue the company had been struggling with, and asked to report their observations and proposals at the end of the term.

Lena had only spoken to them a few times, but this batch of interns seemed bright and sweet and energetic. Her favorite by far was Anita Gutierrez, and so when Anita moved to the head of the meeting room, laptop pressed to her chest, Lena was sure to give her an encouraging smile.

Anita smiled back, and opened her laptop, plugging in the HDMI. “Today I’ll be presenting –”

“Screen’s not working,” said another student.

Confused, Anita turned, staring at the blank screen. “Oh, uh. Sorry.” She unplugged the HDMI cable and plugged it back in again. No luck. “Uh,” she repeated.

What unfolded next was absolutely painful to watch. Anita fussed with her laptop, anxiety visibly ratcheting with each passing second, while interns and other employees helpfully gave her advice, swapped out the cable, checked the surge protector, pressed every button on every remote in the room - no luck.

“I can, uh, present without, uh, the slides.” Anita was near tears. “But my graphs -”

“Is there a switch?” Lena asked. “On the TV?”

Anita blinked at her blankly.

“The back of the TV,” repeated Lena patiently. “Does it have a toggle override, independent of the other controls?”

Beet red, Anita ducked behind the monitor. There was a clicking sound, and the screen popped into view. The interns cheered.

“I bet you didn’t know I also did tech support,” Lena said.

Anita still looked on the verge of tears, every nerve firmly obliterated by the ordeal. “Thank you, Miss Luthor.”

 

After a day like today, Lena Luthor wanted nothing more than a very hot shower, a very strong scotch, and five minutes with her vibrator. But as she made her way through the garage to her waiting chauffeur, she heard a sob from behind a minivan. Lena peeked through the window - it was Anita Gutierrez, having a good cry.

Lena breathed deep through her nose. If she closed her eyes, she could practically see her personal battery level reading 5%.

Anita let out another shuddering sob.

Lena let her breath out, and walked around the minivan. “Anita?”

“Miss Luthor!” Anita looked like a mess, mascara smudging rings around her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I thought I was, I didn’t know you were -”

“How old are you, Anita?”

Anita sniffed. “I turn 21 next month.”

“Close enough,” she said, and held out her hand. “C’mon. I need a drink very badly, and something tells me you do too.”

Anita shrunk away. “I’m so sorry I fucked up, Miss Luthor, I didn’t mean to, I just got nervous, and then I couldn’t get the words, the words weren’t there when I opened my mouth –”

Lena let her hand fall back to her side, and smiled as gently she could manage. “How many presentations have you given like that before?”

Anita sniffed snottily. “None.”

“Well, now you’ve done one, and there’s nothing to do but improve. And you will, Anita. Improve. Your data was sound. Presentation is something you can learn. Intelligence isn’t.” She held out her hand again. “Now, are you smart enough to let me buy you a very expensive drink to celebrate the end of your internship, I wonder?”

Anita laughed now, taking Lena’s hand. “I think so.”

“I think so, too.”

 

The television at the bar told her Kara had managed to gather the last of the not-cats just as the sun began to set. Anita was too nervous to be making this much direct eye contact with Lena Luthor to be out for long, which Lena was endlessly grateful for. But she felt that, by the time she left with a bright “Thanks, Miss Luthor!!” - having drunk nothing but a shirley temple, what a good and law-abiding egg - Anita had overcome the worst of her feelings about the ordeal. Mission accomplished. Good job, Lena.

_> Did you know you can be so done with a day that your bones ache with it?_

She texted Kara.

The response came back immediately.

_> Sam told me something was up. Come home and let me make it better, okay?_

 

Better involved breakfast food.

All the breakfast food.

Ever conceived.

“Nothing fixes a bad day like breakfast for dinner,” Kara explained seriously as Lena rounded the counter. “And I couldn’t remember exactly what was your favorite, so I just got a little of everything. There’s crepes, and there’s pancake, and there’s waffles, and that’s that quiche from Benny’s Bakery that’s so rich it’s almost disgusting but in a good way, and muffins from Bertha’s, you remember Bertha’s –”

Lena’s kitchen had never been so packed with food in her memory. All of it hot, and delicious, and waiting just for her.

Thanks to Kara.

“And whatever you don’t want, don’t even worry about it.” Kara gestured to herself grandly. “I’m here to help, and I worked up quite the appetite today. ”

“It seems you did,” said Lena, eyeing her girlfriend appraisingly. She pressed closer, pinning Kara in place against the cabinet, and plucked at her shirt. “Is that… cat hair?”

Kara looked down at herself curiously. “Oh gosh, they shed just like earth-cats do? Who knew?”

Lena laughed, enjoying the warmth of her girlfriend, the solidity of their hips pressed together just so. “That’s a lot of space cat hair, Kara. Exactly what percent of this food is compromised, do you think?”

Kara looked offended. “I would never allow…!”

Lena leaned past her and grabbed a pint glass waiting with eggs beaten for a scramble. She raised it between them, so they could both see the hair on the rim.

“Well,” conceded Kara, “Benny’s and Bertha’s stuff are probably safe, at least.”

Lena hummed. “You did all this for me.”

“Of course I did,” said Kara. “I love you.”

Kara was not prepared for the intensity of Lena’s reaction.

“I didn’t know breakfast food had this effect on you,” she said when they pulled apart for breath.

“Please shut up,” said Lena, laughing almost hysterically, “and also never shut up for the rest of our lives. And take me to bed, right now.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Kara, lifting Lena up and wrapping her legs around her hips. “Whatever you say.”

**Author's Note:**

> Foley's contribution was to [imagine this but a montage of Kara with space cats.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nnXomNIrkM) Foley, you're so valid.
> 
> I'm on tumblr as bossbeth!


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